


Masquerade

by KAZ1167



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Everything's complicated, F/M, Non-Graphic Smut, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:10:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KAZ1167/pseuds/KAZ1167
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra comes face to face with the harsh reality of the break-up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Makorra Week 2013, Day 1 prompt "Masquerade."

Korra watches as Mako pulls the lovely heiress into his embrace, the happy lilt of the song accompanied by their laughter. They are celebrating the miraculous rebound of Future Industries; the company once again becoming a successful enterprise with Asami Sato at its head. Asami deserved to revel in her achievement, particularly after everything she had been through in the past year, but Korra couldn’t quite bring herself to enjoy the moment with her friends.

According to Bolin, they weren’t officially a thing. 

They hadn’t told her, but a part of her had known. She’d seen it in the way she looked at him, the way they smiled at one another, like they’d successfully hidden their damn secret so well. She’d barely spent any time with them, but it was enough. Every time she saw them together, saw that smile cross his face, saw that glimmer in her green eyes, she felt frozen and numb, a half-empty feeling in her chest that made each breath feel labored.

They had every right to be with each other, but knowing that fact doesn’t stop her stomach from turning each time she thinks of him wrapped in someone else’s arms. She hates the bitterness she feels at the sight of them, but no matter how much distance she puts between herself and the fire bender, she can’t get away.

Bolin drags her over to where the couple stands, his hand tugging against her wrist as they meet on the dance floor. She wonders if the tension she feels is as apparent and awful to them as it is to her, but Bolin lightheartedly asks Asami for the next dance and she accepts. As the music begins and the new partners move away, cold seeps through her body as her eyes meet gold momentarily.

“Korra—“ he starts, but she turns and walks away, leaving him stranded on the filling floor. She’s not ready for this, not to see them before her, not for the half-hearted apologies that will inevitably come from him and will turn her blood to ice as her heart pounds aggressively in her chest.

She leaves the club through the back entrance, the energetic jazz music unpleasant in her ears as she walks out onto the cold, dark, street. 

“You’re being ridiculous, Korra!” His voice stops her and she turns swiftly to face him. She feels the rush of adrenaline running through her veins, leaving an icy chill in its wake, and she can’t help herself as she spits her venomous response.

“I’m being ridiculous? Ha! That’s hilarious, coming from you!” His amber eyes widen, like she’s slapped him.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? You broke up with me, Korra! What did you expect me to do?” He stalks toward her, his hands flailing in exasperation as he hits his last question.

“I don’t know, but I didn’t expect you to run back to your ex-girlfriend, you know, the one you left to be with me.” She doesn’t care if she’s crossing a line as she says it; she knows it has always been more complicated than that between the three of them, knows she has no right to be this angry with them for going back to one another, but it doesn’t stop her.

“You know it isn’t as simple as that Korra—”

“Then what is it, Mako?!”

“It’s a distraction! Being with her helps keep my mind off of everything else, keeps my mind off of you! So forgive me for not having your will-power or whatever it is, but I can’t do it otherwise.” His voice rings out in the alley, echoing quietly off of the cool brick buildings trapping them on both sides. He closes the remaining distance between them, stopping just short of her, and she feels the resolve she had found in her anger crack.

“Asami—”

“Asami knows, Korra. She knows what this is, and we both know we didn’t work, but this is just easy, for both of us, for now.” He runs his gloved hand through his hair once, frustration and exhaustion apparent in the gesture, like he’s too tired to continue breathing, let alone explain the reasoning behind his actions. For the first time, she notices how his eyes, usually so reflective and engaging, seem dull, the light purple circles under his eyes further dampening their glow. The anger goading her dies out as quickly as it came and she sighs, the foot of space between them feeling simultaneously like too much and not enough.

“But that’s what you want, right? And we weren’t ever…easy.”

“No, it’s not… it’s just that…right now, easy works.”

She gulps in the cold air, feels it burn her throat and lungs, as it hits her; a reality she has refused to accept crashing down around her.

“We’re never going to work, are we?”

“Korra…”

She has nothing to lose, so she closes the space between them and presses her lips hard against his. She doesn’t care if she’s being selfish, she just knows she can’t let go of him, let go of what they had, just yet. He pulls her against him and an aching desperation she’s never felt before seeps into her with the brush of his tongue against her lips, the gentle warmth of his hand on her neck. He breaks first, rests his forehead on hers before he speaks.

“One more time. Please, just…” The puff of air on her lips leaves a tingling sensation in its wake and she finds herself nodding, allowing him to lead her to the police-issued satomobile he’d taken here from work.

They rush, pulling at their clothes, hastily pushing everything aside. His mouth is on hers once more and she hesitates to close her eyes, not daring to shut out the image of him above her. Her fingers run through his hair, down the side of his jaw, over his shoulders; each inch something to be memorized. 

“Don’t stop,” she whispers as he kisses down her neck, his hands sliding over her bare arms

Tomorrow, she would put on a smile when she saw them and force her voice to say nice things, try to make the words sound less hollow. Tomorrow would be the start of “easy” for all of them, no more tension belaboring their relationships, no more questioning where everyone stands. She would make things easy for everyone and restore balance to their little circle of friends, even if it meant permanently wearing a mask around the people she loves.

No more second guessing if they have a future, if maybe they could work, if what they had was more than just a one-time, failed relationship. Tonight will be the last time; this is how they will end.

She steals this moment for herself, keeps it frozen in her memory. Amidst the pleasure, the warm touches, the gasping breaths, she aches more than she ever has before, a pain more real and more torturous than any physical pain she’s felt wretches through her as she comes around him. Her name breaks from his lips quickly after, the way his voice wraps around each letter, each syllable something she grasps at, something she’ll replay in her memory every day until it no longer hurts to hear.


End file.
